


Missing Home

by Warp5Complex_Archivist



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-14
Updated: 2006-03-13
Packaged: 2018-08-16 05:51:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8089987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warp5Complex_Archivist/pseuds/Warp5Complex_Archivist
Summary: Trip's home is gone. Set in Season 4. (11/23/2004)





	1. Missing Home 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).

  
Author's notes: Spoilers, Season 3, 4.01-4.02 "Storm Front," 4.03 "Home."  


* * *

"The food was great," Hoshi exclaimed jovially, playing with the salad on her plate as she thought back to her recent visit to Earth. "It'd been so long since I'd had good Chinese food that I'd almost forgotten what the flavors were like. Phlox sure knows his restaurants." Hoshi's smile softened, and she put her fork down. "I felt so bad that he didn't get to go."

Malcolm nodded, chewing his food.

"Seeing my family was nice, too." Hoshi paused, becoming more serious. "I've really missed them."

Malcolm laughed. "My visit with my family was, well..." He let his voice drift off.

Hoshi smiled. She reached over and poked him in the arm. "Come on, it must have been nice to see them."

Malcolm blushed, looking down at his plate. "Actually, yeah, I suppose it was." He looked back up at Hoshi. "It's nice to have family, no matter how dysfunctional." He smiled, taking a bite of his meal. He swallowed. "Although the food pretty much..." He paused, smiling wryly. "Well, let's just say that my stomach was glad to get back to the ship." He took another bite, chewing happily.

Malcolm heard a muffled bang. He caught a sudden movement from just behind Hoshi, and saw Trip standing at the table next to theirs, his chair having fallen over behind him in his rush to stand. Trip stared at Malcolm for a second, his face blank. He turned and walked quickly towards the doors, leaving his meal, untouched, on the table.

Malcolm watched Trip, puzzled at his behavior. Then Malcolm's eyes widened and he took a slow, measured breath. "Bloody hell. I am such a git," he said softly.

Hoshi twisted, trying to see what Malcolm was looking at. "What?" she said as she watched Trip exit.

Malcolm shook his head, frowning after Trip. "He didn't even visit Earth while we were there. Other than the ceremony..." Malcolm turned to Hoshi. "I should have...I am such a git," he said with quiet frustration.

Hoshi looked at Malcolm carefully. "You think he heard us talking," she said quietly.

Malcolm nodded. He gazed at her soberly, leaning towards her, dropping his voice. "Whilst my family and I may not get on, I do at least know that they're there." Malcolm straightened. "Hell, even if I don't want to visit with them, at a minimum I can walk around the streets where I grew up. But for Trip, that's all, just, gone."

Hoshi turned back to the door, breathing out through her teeth, exhaling with force. "Damn."

Malcolm sat back in his chair. He turned his face away, saying nothing, his eyes stormy.

* * *

Hoshi had been looking for Trip since her shift ended. She finally found herself standing outside his cabin, unsure if she should ring, unsure if she'd be welcome. She hadn't had a serious talk with Trip in quite a while, and he'd been more like his old, cheerful self lately. She was nervous about what their trip back to Earth might have done to him.

Hoshi leaned forward, ringing the door chime.

The door opened and Trip filled the doorway, looming over her. His face was strained, his eyes red.

Hoshi peered up at him. "Can I come in?"

Trip shrugged and moved aside.

Hoshi walked past him, turning as his door closed behind her. "I wanted to see how you were doing."

Trip stood in front of her, his arms crossed, his back stiff. His face was expressionless. He stared down at her, not speaking. "Why?" Trip then replied, his voice cold.

"Because I..."

Trip interrupted her. "Why the sudden interest?" he said with a sudden, taunting half smile.

Hoshi blinked, surprised at his hostility. She decided to start again. "You didn't go down to visit Earth while we were there."

Trip shrugged. "Nothing left to visit." He looked at her frankly, almost daring her to go on.

Hoshi shifted awkwardly. "I'm sorry, Trip."

Trip turned, triggering his door open. He looked back at her, his eyes expressionless. "So am I."

Hoshi stepped out. The door shut behind her.


	2. Missing Home 2

"Ten, Eleven, Twelve..." Hoshi was doing abdominal crunches in her cabin, her back on the floor and her legs propped up on her bed. With each crunch, she exhaled and counted.

"Thirteen, I, hate, ab, crunches, eighteen, nineteen," she huffed.

She stopped when her door chime buzzed, pulling herself back on the floor and sitting up. She grabbed her towel from the back of her chair, wiping her face as she opened the door.

Trip stood there awkwardly, rumpled in civilian dress. He smiled, seeming nervous. "Can I come in?" Hoshi nodded. She moved aside to let him pass, her brow wrinkled, puzzled and slightly uneasy. As the door shut behind her, he turned to her, shifting nervously, his hands clenched behind his back.

"I'm sorry about, um, earlier." Trip stared at the wall past her shoulder, not meeting her eyes.

Hoshi responded, a bit tense. "It's all right."

Trip's eyes locked on hers, his posture still stiff. "No, actually, it's not all right. I was a total jerk. I just...I took it out on you, and I shouldn't have. It's not your fault."

She nodded, taking a step towards him. "Are you okay, Trip?"

Trip smiled wanly, shaking his head slightly. "Not really."

"Would you like to talk about it?"

He grimaced. "I don't know." He paused, shifting his feet. "I've been trying not to think about it, honestly. That's part of the reason why I didn't spend much time down on Earth while we were there. I didn't want to think about what isn't there." He smiled at her. "If I stay up here, it's kind of like it never happened."

"Trip, I don't think you should pretend..."

"I'm not pretending," he cut her off with sudden hostility, leaning towards her, his eyes flashing. "Believe me, I'm fully aware of..." He moved away rapidly, and stood, his back to her, as he stared out her window at the stars. He took a deep breath, exhaling loudly. He turned back to her again, his shoulders slumped, a defeated look on his face. "I'm sorry, Hoshi. I've kind of been having trouble controlling my temper." He rubbed his eyes with one hand, then sank down on her bed. "It's strange. I thought I was fine, that I was dealing with all of it, but being back on Earth, I think it just kind of brought some stuff back, you know?" He grimaced slightly.

Hoshi sat down, carefully, next to him.

"My feelings are all, sort of, out-of-whack." Trip said softly.

"What do you mean?"

Trip sighed. "I'm not sure what I mean." He gave her a quick, insincere smile. "I'm fine one minute, then I'm angry. I mean really, rip the walls down furious. And it's weird. I've always considered myself pretty easy-going, you know?" He shook his head. He dropped his voice to a near whisper, the emotion drained from his face. "And worse—I should be all tore up—or at least sad, I guess, but I'm not." He took a deep breath and looked away from her. "It's like my brain isn't working right. I mean, aren't I supposed to be feeling, um, _something_?" He turned back to her, his eyes burning. "Half the time, I'm pissed off. The other half, I'm just...numb." He shrugged.

Trip stood suddenly, walking away from the bed, peering at his reflection in the mirror over Hoshi's desk. "I look like I haven't slept in days." He chuckled softly. "First I can't sleep, then all I want to do is sleep. And Jesus, the dreams..." he turned to her, his eyes blazing. "Very strange dreams. Odd. Not what you'd think. Not of my sister, or of the people who died." He laughed bitterly.

Hoshi looked at him, worried. "What are you dreaming of?"

"This might sound weird." He peered carefully at Hoshi. "Maybe a little callous." He walked to the bed again, sitting beside her. He looked at her, then turned his gaze down, staring at his hands, which were shifting nervously in his lap. "A lot of people died. My sister _died_ ," he said heatedly. "But all I dream about are the _places_ that are gone, the things." He looked up at her. "Is that terrible?"

Hoshi shook her head. "You can't control..."

Trip interrupted her. "Like last night, I was diving in the Gulf off Panama City Beach. The wrecks off-shore and the artificial reefs were really something to see." He smiled, looking away from her. He began absently picking at his sweater with his fingers, pulling at the threads. "Then I was walking on the beach, for some reason wearing shoes and socks, and getting sand in my socks. Terrible feeling." He grimaced. Hoshi noticed that he began unraveling the edge of his sweater, the yarns fraying apart as he pulled and twisted. "The other night, I dreamt I was going bar-hopping in the bars along PC Beach." He turned to her, his fingers ceasing their movement. "I've also dreamt of going to the arcade, hanging with my friends and laughing at the tourists. Making fun of the kids down for spring break. Trying to pick up the girls from GCCC, um, Gulf Coast Community College. Stupid stuff like that." He shifted, uncomfortable. "Frivolous stuff, but I can't stop thinking about it."

Trip stood again, and started to pace in the narrow space between her bed and desk. "What I can't figure out is why all I think about, all I dream about, are stupid things like the Pokey Sticks at Gumby's Pizza in Gainesville." He laughed morbidly. "Or the blue crab soup at the South Beach Grill in Crescent Beach. These are stupid things. It's stupid to miss them, when so many people died." He paused, then said flatly, "When my sister died."

Hoshi stood, interrupting Trip's pacing. Standing in his path, she said, "Maybe it's just easier to focus on those things, the objects and places that are gone, rather than the people. Maybe otherwise, it's overwhelming."

He nodded, unconvinced. "Yeah, I guess it's easier to think about the stupid wings at Gumby's than about my friends, everyone I grew up with, being..." His voice broke, and he shrugged, his eyes damp. "Because otherwise, it's kind of a lot, you know?"

Trip glimpsed the chronometer over Hoshi's shoulder. "Jesus, I'm late. I'm supposed to be on shift." He wiped his eyes with his sleeve, then looked down at his sweater. "I'm not even dressed yet." He smiled, and looked at her again. "I've got to go."

She placed a hand on his arm, gently. "Anytime you want to talk about this, you know I'll be here."

Trip nodded, moving towards her door. He left, and Hoshi watched the door close behind him, her expression serious and concerned. She sighed. "Usually he's the one doing the cheering up."

* * *

Malcolm stood by Trip's table. "May I join you?"

Trip looked up from his padd, pushing it away. His eyes were distant. "I'm probably not great company right now, but whatever," he said, shrugging. He moved his plates aside, making room for Malcolm.

Malcolm noticed that Trip didn't seem to have touched his meal. "How've you been, commander?" he asked, sitting across from Trip.

"All right. Why?"

"You left the mess fairly quickly yesterday. And I noticed that you were late today."

Trip looked at him sharply. "Are you and Hoshi conspiring?"

Malcolm looked at him in surprise. "What do you mean?"

"She stopped by to see me yesterday. I kind of bit her head off." Trip looked sheepish. "I had to apologise later."

"We haven't been conspiring." Malcolm leaned in towards Trip, lowering his voice. "We're probably just seeing the same things. We're concerned about you." He shifted, wincing slightly. " _I'm_ concerned about you."

"I've been doing my job..."

"It's not that." Malcolm paused, noticing the other man's anxious expression. "Trip, you know it's not that. You just haven't been yourself lately."

Trip shrugged. "I'm not feeling myself. Not right now. Not particularly."

"If there's anything I can do..."

Trip shrugged again, looking away.

Malcolm sat back in his chair, watching his friend. After a minute, he said, "I'm sorry if what I said in the mess upset you."

"Nah." Trip turned back to Malcolm. "Well, yeah, it did, but...people are going to talk about their families, and their homes. I can't take that personally."

"Still, I could have been more sensitive to the fact that you were sitting right there while I was going on about..."

"No, Malcolm. You shouldn't have to edit your conversation because I'm sitting nearby. Life doesn't stop just because..." Trip waved his hand, letting his voice trail off. He looked back down at his padd, then pushed it away, grabbing a fork and sliding one of his plates back in front of him. He began toying with his food, still not eating.

After several moments, Malcolm spoke. "Where in Florida did you live?"

Trip looked up from his plate. "The Panhandle, among other places." He smiled, putting down his fork, and leaned back in his chair. "Redneck Riviera."

Malcolm raised his eyebrows. "Isn't that a bit derogatory?"

"It is, most definitely." Trip laughed, leaning towards Malcolm. "But it helps to have a sense of humor. Otherwise, when people make fun of you for where you're from, or for talking the way you talk, you're powerless. If you can be funny when they're being prejudiced assholes, it kind of disarms them, hmm?" Trip picked up his fork again, and took a mouthful of pasta.

Malcolm smiled, glad to see Trip finally eat something. "You know, actually, I was in northern Florida once, during March. Fabulous beaches."

"Too damn cold."

Malcolm looked at him, confused. "It wasn't even cool." Seeing the disbelief on Trip's face, he continued. "Well, maybe for someone from Florida, but I found it refreshing."

"Tourists." Trip grunted, playing up his accent a bit. "All y'all are crazy." He smiled. "What else did you do there?"

"Typical holiday list."

"Like..." Trip egged him on, twisting more pasta onto his fork.

"Um, I tried to get a tan."

Trip raised an eyebrow.

"I admit, that wasn't successful." Malcolm smiled, remembering. "Ran myself ragged at beach sports. Went hammer-and-tongs at the night life."

Trip grinned.

"It was a bit of an orgy of touristy attractions," Malcolm said, a quirky half-smile on his face. "Beaches, bars, the club scene...I had fun, um, expanding my knowledge of American culture..." he trailed off, the slightest hint of innuendo in his tone.

"Sex?" Trip said suggestively, with a mock-surprised expression.

Malcolm blushed and looked down. "Couldn't be helped." He looked back up, a twinkle in his eye. "It's the accent," he whispered. "I think they found it exotic."

"Funny, never worked the same way for me while I was bar-hopping," Trip said, deadpan, deliberately emphasizing his own accent. He twisted his face into a slight smirk, then burst out laughing.

Malcolm watched Trip laugh, considering. "Maybe the next time we're home, you could come to England with me. I could show you around."

Trip smiled at him warmly. "I'd like that."

Malcolm nodded. Then he gave Trip his best evil grin. "Perhaps you could try your accent on some of the people in London. They may find it..."

"Exotic?" Trip interrupted.

Malcolm raised his eyebrows suggestively. "Perhaps."

Trip smiled, a wicked flash in his eye. "I'd like that."


End file.
